


The Window

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Cuckolding, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dopheld Mitaka is the only person here with any emotional intelligence, Fisting, M/M, Oral Sex, consensual cuckolding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: Ordinarily, Hux only calls upon Dopheld for rigorously regimented D/s play. Except for when Kylo Ren goes off-ship. Then, what he calls Dopheld for is to fuck him hard (like Ren does). Dopheld knows none of them has an exclusive arrangement with either of the others, and he knows how to give Hux what he wants. But what about what he needs?





	The Window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawkeward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeward/gifts).



It was Lieutenant Mitaka’s job to know what was going on. He was a bridge officer. Obviously he knew when one of his two co-commanders was planetside. He also knew what that /meant/.

As if he’d called it into occurring by thought alone, his comm chimed in his pocket. It rather appeared that General Hux was unaware of his own patterns, the habits he’d formed. He still felt the need to obfuscate the true purpose of the comm, as if Dopheld was an idiot, as if this hadn’t been going on for the better part of a standard year. Dopheld went to the commissary and bought some sterile exam gloves. 

He met the General, as instructed, in Hux’s office. This was the first part of Hux’s ritual. Ordinarily, when Kylo Ren was aboard the ship, Hux would call Dopheld to his quarters when he had need of him. But, for some reason, whenever Ren went on a mission elsewhere, Hux only wanted to meet in his office. 

The second part of the ritual, currently in progress, was that Hux would pour them each a finger or two of brandy, and begin quietly removing articles of clothing, casting /meaningful glances/ at Dopheld all the while. Dopheld gamely played along, watching Hux strip off first his gloves, then his jacket, then his undershirt, then his boots, his socks, and his jodhpurs, before reclining on that blue couch of his in his regulation underwear. He always undressed in the same order, and Dopheld always allowed himself to watch, appreciating the skin as it was revealed. 

Each time, he took note of new bruises, new bite marks and scratches. If he didn’t already know, he could’ve estimated how long Ren had been off-ship by the color of Hux’s bruises alone. He wasn’t jealous. He was frustrated. Watching his co-commanders go in circles was one thing, but Hux had seen fit to drag Dopheld into it, and Dopheld had not yet decided if it bothered him that he was being used. At least the sex was good. 

Hux and Ren were not exclusive. Dopheld knew that much. He knew this because if they were, Ren likely would have done worse than just choking him out. He knew Ren was aware that Dopheld was casually involved with Hux, due to the way Ren looked at him whenever he and Hux spoke in Ren’s presence. He had other suspicions, of course, regarding the relationship between the two co-commanders, but he could only operate on what he /knew/.

He knew, for example, what Hux wanted from him. Most days, he wanted an obedient sub, one who would submit completely to Hux’s rigorously regimented D/s scenes. And that was Dopheld. Dopheld assumed that was something he couldn’t get from Ren, or hadn’t asked for. Especially because, when Ren went away, Hux would perform this elaborate song and dance, and entice Dopheld to fuck him. Hard. Rough. Mean. Ostensibly, like Kylo would. 

Dopheld approached the couch, and Hux watched him. He removed his hat, jacket, and gloves, and laid them across Hux’s desk, while Hux’s eyes drew down his arms. He couldn’t possibly be a believable stand-in for Kylo Ren. He had the build of an officer, not a warrior. Hux never complained, never indicated he was dissatisfied with Dopheld’s performance in these sessions, but Dopheld had to wonder. 

He cupped Hux under the jaw with one hand. He never had this kind of freedom when Ren was aboard the ship. Hux allowed it, allowed Dopheld to skate a thumb along his lower lip, push it into his mouth, press down on his tongue. Better than that, Dopheld watched Hux’s pupils expand, felt his tongue press up against the pad of his tongue, lick at it as his eyes went half-lidded. It was amazing, how much Hux seemed to want this, need it. And it was different from the times when Hux dominated Dopheld. Hux didn’t necessarily want those roles reversed. He didn’t want a /scene/. He wanted to be fucked. 

Dopheld pushed his hand into Hux’s hair. It was difficult with the gel, but he was used to it, and he ignored the stiff texture as he pulled Hux off the cushions and onto the floor. Hux flailed, one knee hitting the area rug loudly, and probably painfully, but he didn’t say anything about it. He only sucked in a breath, and steadied himself. They didn’t speak much, during these encounters. In lieu of words, Hux pushed his face to the front of Dopheld’s trousers, nosed his cock through the fabric. Dopheld sighed, felt himself slowly hardening at the sight of his commanding officer on his knees, rubbing his face against Dopheld’s dick like a desperate slut. He combed his fingers through Hux’s stiff hair, watched Hux raise his hands to start unbuttoning and unzipping Dopheld’s uniform trousers. Hux almost looked like a different person, like this, his expression soft and needy. 

Dopheld groaned softly when Hux pulled his cock out, began kissing up the side of it, wrapped his lips around the tip, and sank down. He was only half hard, but Hux’s tongue worked him up quickly, lapping at all the spots he /knew/ would get the best reaction. Dopheld was gasping before long, and he knew that, on any other day, Hux would be smirking, teasing him, telling him he was a soft touch and too eager. He’d threaten to edge Dopheld all night. Sometimes, he’d actually do it. But not today. Not when Ren was away.

He pushed Hux back, tightened his grip in Hux’s hair when he tried to fight it, tried to go back to sucking cock like he was starved for it. Dopheld held him, made him sit still until Hux looked up at him, a question in his hazy eyes. 

“Up over the couch,” Dopheld instructed. So odd, every time, giving orders to the General. But, Hux went, standing on reddened knees to bend over the arm of the couch, shimmying his underwear down his thighs as he did. Dopheld liked the way he looked like that; the band of Hux’s underwear cut in right under his ass, made it look bigger, more /luscious/. He couldn’t resist reaching for it, taking a handful and squeezing. Hux made a barely-audible sound, and Dopheld pushed his thumb against Hux’s hole, finding it already slick and ready. It was always like this, when Ren was away. Hux would make noises of complaint if Dopheld attempted to stretch him out more, and Dopheld had his suspicions about that, too. Was that how Ren did it? Just shoved in without care for Hux’s comfort or pleasure? 

Reaching into his pocket, Dopheld withdrew the gloves he’d purchased on the way over, and tore open a sachet of personal lubricant with his teeth. It didn’t count as ‘stretching’ if it was ‘fisting’. 

Hux’s posture stiffened when he heard the snap of the gloves, the slide of the slick over their rubbery fingers. Then, Dopheld slipped four fingers into him, and Hux’s whole body relaxed, held up only by the couch, his legs going pliant as he uttered a low whine. Dopheld pushed the flat of his hand in, out, in, out and then in with five, his thumb sliding in, forming a fist inside. A tremulous sound sighed out of Hux, his fingers clenching on the cushions. Dopheld knew what he was doing. He shifted his fingers so a knuckle pressed against Hux’s prostate with every push. He braced his other hand against Hux’s lower back, putting all of his strength behind his fist. Finally, a real moan from Hux, throaty, like Dopheld punched it out of him. 

Dopheld sped up, felt Hux’s hips begin to shift back into his hand, saw the way Hux had bitten into one of the couch cushions to muffle his cries. Did he do that with Ren, too? 

He pulled his hand out, watched Hux squirm as he removed the gloves and dropped them on the floor. Hux grunted impatiently when Dopheld rubbed his cock against Hux’s soft hole, and then, Dopheld pushed in. 

Hux tightened and then relaxed again, and that was Dopheld’s cue. He gripped Hux by the hips, lifted him to where he wanted him, and began fucking into him, hard, brutal. 

“Do you think about him when we do this?”

Dopheld hadn’t meant to ask that. 

“Wh-what?” Hux stuttered, wriggling to look over his shoulder at Dopheld. Well, no going back now. 

“Lord Ren. Do you think about him, when he’s away, and you have me do this to you? Is it him you’re picturing?” 

He wasn’t angry. He was curious. Hux’s hole clenched around him, even as his face burned, his eyes shifting away, and Dopheld sucked in a harsh gasp. /Kriff./ That was a look he’d never seen on his commander’s face, and it seemed Hux’s humiliation was doing it for them both.

“You do,” Dopheld guessed. “Is this how he fucks you?” He dug his fingers in harder, ground his hips down, made the friction rough and mean. Hux wailed into the couch. “You should tell me how he does it. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to satisfy your craving?” 

Hux was so pretty when he was embarrassed and aroused. The back of his neck was an endearing shade of pink. 

“I—“ Hux started, fists tight. “It isn’t...” 

He probably meant to deny it, but Dopheld angled a sharp thrust in, and Hux howled. 

“Be honest, General,” Dopheld urged, “or don’t you want this to be a good fuck?” It was brazen; this sounded more like the sorts of things Hux would say to /him/, when Dopheld was acting as his sub. 

Hux seemed to struggle, but only for a moment. 

“He has a filthy mouth,” Hux mumbled, “but he’s always whispering. It gives me chills.”

Dopheld pitched his voice lower, spoke in a harsh whisper. “Does it? What sorts of things does he say? Does he narrate what he’s doing to your body, or perhaps suggest things he’d /like/ to do with it?”

Hux’s skin prickled, hairs on his arms raising. “Yes,” he answered. “And he calls me names. Tells me I arch for it like a two-credit whore, and says my arse is sweet as a Naboo pear.” 

Dopheld huffed a laugh. Ren /would/ say that. “I have never been to Naboo, so I can’t speak to that from experience, but if the comparison is at all warranted, those pears must be a delicacy.” His hands squeezed Hux’s ass, even as he continued to fuck in and out of him at a brutal pace. “Because your arse is exquisite.”

Hux moaned helplessly into the cushions, pushed his hips back harder to meet Dopheld’s thrusts. Stars, he was tight— tighter than usual, tighter than he ought to have been after taking Dopheld’s fist. Which meant he was clenching. Which meant all of this, the talk, the act, was driving him to the edge. 

“And the way your back dips as you lift your hips for me, as you work your hole on my cock, it’s the most beautiful curve,” Dopheld goes on, in that same gravelly whisper. “I hope he appreciates it. I hope he pets down your back, splays his hand over your skin, pushes you down and makes you take it, the way I know you want. Do you start sweating between your thighs the second he leaves? Do you miss his cock before he’s even out of radar range?” He held Hux down, the way he described, felt Hux quivering around him. 

“Y-yes,” Hux admitted. “He drives me up a wall, and I hate him, but I /want/ him, and it absolutely /kills/ me.” His voice was wrecked, but intent, words spat like venom. 

“Do you hate him? Do you /really/?” It didn’t seem like hatred. It seemed like Hux wished it was. 

“Ghh,” was all the response he got, until he leaned forward, grabbed one of Hux’s wrists and twisted it behind his back, pinning his wrist into that little dip he’d described before. 

“What did I say about being /honest/, General?” He sincerely hoped he didn’t get spaced for this. “You’re a good liar, better than most, except when you’ve got a cock up your arse.” 

“Rrgh!” Hux growled, twisting in Dopheld’s hold. It was no good. He couldn’t get leverage. “Touch me,” he ordered, but Dopheld ignored him, pushing instead on his twisted arm in a way he knew would hurt. 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Dopheld pointed out. He’d be concerned for his wellbeing if Hux’s hole wasn’t fluttering greedily around his cock. 

“/You’re/ avoiding letting me come!” Hux shot back. His body was shaking all over. 

“Yes. I’ll touch you when you answer me truthfully.” 

He didn’t have the Force to /check/ if Hux told him the truth, but he knew the man well. Knew his tells, his microexpressions. 

“Hngh,” Hux choked out. “It doesn’t matter if I hate him or not, so why belabor the point?”

Another dodge, but getting closer. 

“I see, you’ve convinced yourself it’s easier if you both agree to hate each other,” Dopheld observes, slowing his thrusts to a punishing grind. “He doesn’t hate you though. He’s fantastically jealous that you fuck me, for example. He hates that, at the very least.”

“Explain why you’re still alive, then,” Hux muttered, trying and failing to shift his hips, spur Dopheld into moving faster. 

“Either he’s afraid that killing me would reveal his hand to you, or, he respects you enough not to kill me just because he wants you for himself. Whichever it is, it saves my neck,” Dopheld noted. He’d known, that day the droid slipped through the Order’s grasp, that Ren would’ve had a perfect opportunity to do away with him. Ren could’ve killed him then, without it being obvious that he’d done it out of jealousy. He’d gone anyway, to report the stolen freighter, even though his voice shook as he faced death. Ren hadn’t killed him, though. For one reason or another, he’d been spared, and his arrangement with the General continued. 

“That’s what you think, is it?” Hux grunted, still writhing, impatient. 

“It is. I think he feels the same way about you as you do about him, and I don’t think that shared feeling is the mutual loathing you claim.” Why by the seven aethers was he doing this? Hux’s hole only got tighter, though, and Dopheld knew that Hux would come, immediately and explosively, the second he touched his cock.

“It’s... I told you! I want him, so much it’s /humiliating/,” Hux hissed, twisting angrily. “I want him to always be the person he is when he’s inside, with all of his focus on me. But—“ Hux wrenched his hand free, used both arms to force himself back on Dopheld’s cock, hard, “he won’t do that! For all his powers, he /won’t/ see that I need him, which means he’s /ignoring it on purpose/!”

Dopheld panted. Hux was really throwing himself into it and it made him see spots. He tried to clear his mind enough to reply, but barely got past wrapping his fist around Hux’s cock, a reward for finally being honest, before Hux was shouting and coming, body bucking like an unbroken fathier. It was all Dopheld could do to hang on. 

“Kriff, Kylo!” Hux cried, and for some reason, that’s what pushed Dopheld over the edge. He bent over Hux’s back, emptying into him, while Hux screamed another man’s name. 

He was dazed when he came down, and it took him a moment to gather his wits enough to pull out. Hux reached behind himself to tug his underwear back up from where they were bunched around his thighs, and then rolled gracelessly to sit on the couch. He didn’t look at Dopheld. In fact, he rather looked like he was attempting to drill a hole in the durasteel wall with his gaze alone. Dopheld pulled up his own underwear, and rebuttoned his trousers. 

He returned to Hux’s desk, lifted his snifter of brandy, took a few cautious sips. 

“He’s probably afraid of upsetting what you two already have,” Dopheld said, at last. 

Hux ran a hand through his ruined hair. 

“Kylo Ren? Afraid of that? Of, of me?” He barked a self-deprecating laugh. “Wouldn’t that just beat all.” 

“You’ll see it if you look for it,” Dopheld stated. “You have me, when he’s away, but stars only know how he deals with missing you.” 

Hux cut his eyes at Dopheld, but his glare was made less effective by his rat’s nest hair and still-flushed cheeks. 

“What, you think he’s picking up spaceport floozies or something?”

Dopheld bit down on his smile. ‘Floozies’, honestly. 

“Do you really think he’s the type? Can you imagine him sweeping into some backwater cantina with a roguish grin and a devil-may-care attitude, sweet talking some strange being into acting as your stand-in for the night?” Dopheld had heard about the fight on Starkiller, the one that put a bowcaster wound in Ren’s side. He’d killed that legendary pirate though, the one who claimed to be his father, and Dopheld couldn’t imagine that the two had ever had much in common. 

Hux passed a hand over his face, considering. 

“Well then, what do you think? All that mystic nonsense and meditation, you think he’s just better at controlling his urges than I am?” He looked at his hands in his lap, chewed his lip. 

“I think he’s probably masturbating furiously in that shuttle,” Dopheld said, and Hux turned surprised eyes on him. “What? Ten credits says that if you were to pull the analytics on the cleaning droids that service his TIE Silencer, you’d find a lot of entries for ‘human organic matter’ in the area of the cockpit.”

“I don’t think I want to know that,” Hux said, rubbing his eyes. “And anyway, why are you so fixated on this? What’s in it for you?” 

/Peace of mind,/ Dopheld thought. He didn’t say that, though. 

“I respect you a great deal, General. And you are a very skilled lover. But I’m not in love with you.” The look of befuddlement on Hux’s face was priceless. “Believe it or not, sir, I’d like to see you happy.”

Hux raised his eyebrows, blinked rapidly. 

“Stars. What a concept,” he said. 

—————-

Ren returned to the ship in a flurry of hangar commotion, as usual. He was, of course, expected. Dopheld had heard the fall go up when Ren’s shuttle was detected by the scanning systems. As a result, the hangar crew and droids were all ready for him when he landed. The bridge prepared for the return of their co-commander. Everything was running exactly as normal. Everything except General Hux.

Most people would not be able to tell, but Dopheld, who knew him intimately, saw the tightness in Hux’s jaw, the slight squint of his eyes, knew that Hux was /bothered/. It seemed their conversation had gotten under his skin. Dopheld frowned. Given this reaction, Hux was far more likely to avoid Ren, punishing himself, than to seek him out. At that rate, they’d be at each other’s throats again in no time, likely in public, and in the midst of some flaming wreckage. 

Dopheld steeled his nerves, and did something he’d never done before: he commed Kylo Ren. 

It was nothing but a time and a location, and the message ‘on behalf of General A. Hux’. He would allow Ren to make his own assumptions about that. At the end of the next shift, he commed Hux the same time and location, with no message. 

Next was to arrive at the location, and cross his fingers that the other two would heed the siren call. He thought Ren was actually the more likely party to show. Hux might still prefer to withdraw... but he’d at least comm if he didn’t plan to attend. At five minutes to the appointed time, with no comm from either of the two co-commanders, Dopheld assumed they would each arrive shortly. 

It was rather comical, actually. It appeared that Hux and Ren arrived at the exact same time, and there was some confusion outside the door. Dopheld opened it with a pneumatic hiss, and Ren whipped his helmet off to glare him down. 

“You,” he accused. “Hux, what is this?”

Hux sputtered, not having expected Ren, obviously. 

“I’m sure I have no idea,” he snapped. “Lieutenant, explain yourself.”

“Wouldn’t you both rather come in, first?” Dopheld offered, stepping aside, and the two men stomped in, wariness rolling off of them like a pair of caged animals. 

Dopheld allowed the door to shut behind them, and activated the security setting. He’d chosen an officers’ reception room for this meeting, a clean room comprising two long sofas, an armchair, a caf table, and a console containing a hospitality droid. It was supposed to be for top-secret meetings between officers and visiting powers, or other VIPs, but Dopheld figured the security of the room would help his cause. He took the armchair for himself, and watched Hux and Ren take seats opposite each other on the two separate sofas. 

Hux’s expression told Dopheld he’d better not just spill everything Hux had said in confidence, while Dopheld was inside him. Ren’s was somewhere between mistrustful and murderous. Surprisingly, Ren talked first. 

“Did you two decide to arrange a ménage-a-trois, while I was away, and this is where you spring it on me?” His lips twitched with repressed emotion. 

“No!” Hux gasped, scandalized. “I wouldn’t... spring that on you, as you say.” 

“Well then. What’s your whipping boy doing here, /General/?” 

Dopheld gleaned that Ren didn’t usually refer to Hux by his title behind closed doors. Hux’s slightly wounded face said as much. 

“‘Whipping boy’?! That’s not what my relationship is to the Lieutenant at all!” Hux insisted. 

“Oh so it’s a relationship now, is it?” Ren sniped, picking furiously at the frayed edge of his cowl. 

“Not a romantic one, for kriff’s sake! I’m not in love with /him/!” Hux cried, flinging his hand out in Dopheld’s direction. Dopheld didn’t say anything. The silence that followed Hux’s outburst nearly /rang/ in their ears. 

Ren glanced nervously at Dopheld, and all Dopheld could do was nod surreptitiously, the barest encouragement. 

“That... rather implies there’s someone else you /are/ in love with,” Ren wheedled. Dopheld nearly smacked his own face. Oblique interrogation was NOT the way to get the General’s guard down. He could see Hux’s hackles raise. 

“Stars over Coruscant,” Dopheld muttered, exasperated. Both of his co-commanders looked at him, fiery-eyed. “Don’t look at /me/!” he groused, “look at each other!” 

Dopheld watched as Hux and Ren turned to regard each other carefully, their gazes meeting over the caf table. Ren swallowed audibly, and high spots of color rose blotchy to Hux’s cheeks. Dopheld held his breath. 

“Do you mean to say... that is, if I...?” Ren tried, eyes flickering to Hux’s lips and back up again. 

“Well I mean, you wouldn’t...” Hux answered, glance skittering to the wall before sliding back to meet Ren’s again. 

“But I do,” Ren argued, voice deep and rumbly. Hux’s pupils dilated almost indecently. 

“That’s... so do I,” he whispered, finally. 

They forgot Dopheld entirely as they each leaned across the space, separated by the caf table, kissed hot and slow, and needy.

“I’m bad to you,” Ren murmured against Hux’s lips. “I was angry you were seeing other people.”

“I was angry, too. Couldn’t you tell what I was feeling? With your,” he twiddled his fingers in the air, “Force powers?”

“You told me to stay out of your mind.”

“And you listened?” 

Then they were kissing again. Dopheld let the door slide shut behind him, and took himself to the officers’ mess for a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
